Path of Promises
by gravybowl
Summary: This takes place after the OVAs - Just some short stories that are all connected about what happens around Hinata Inn after OVAs, (hopefully) heartwarming and tear jerking. CHAPTER 2 UP!
1. Prologue

Motoko sighed and propped her head onto her palm, resting her elbow on the kitchen counter. Her other hand rested on the empty sheath for her katana. The counter, being one of Urashima's rather weak bamboo creations, tipped precariously and creaked ominously.  
  
"Oh, Motoko, don't!" Shinobu turned around, the chopping knife still grasped in her hand. She was holding the knife so hard, her knuckles were turning white, and looked as if they were about to pop out with her eyes, which were bulging. Motoko sighed once again.  
  
"I don't understand –why- you don't get rid of this damn piece of crap, Shinobu! It can barely hold up the weight of my elbow; how will it manage for Christmas celebration?"  
  
"Don't sigh, Motoko! Every time you sigh, a little bit of your happiness goes away from you!" Mutsumi sang, while she waltzed into the kitchen, holding Tama-chan above her head. "Come back, happiness, come back!" Mutsumi pantomimed chasing something invisible around the slippery kitchen floor, while Tama-chan myiued happily and consented to flying around the room.  
  
"Motoko, would you- "Shinobu turned around with a steaming plate of fish to where Motoko was standing a second ago. "Where's Motoko?" The kitchen's noise quieted down to a whisper, and only then could the kitchen's inhabitants hear the ragged breathing emitting from the cupboard under the sink. Shinobu tsked her disapproval, put down her fish, and opened the cupboard gently. Motoko was huddled in the tiny, dirty space, forced into an awkward position by the metal curve of the sink. The vein in her temple visibly throbbed, and her right eye twitched involuntarily.  
  
"Don't worry, Motoko, she's gone," Shinobu murmured soothingly, beckoning with her hand like she would to a startled animal. Motoko slowly climbed out, snapping her head from side to side, uncannily like a hawk, checking for danger.  
  
"What is –wrong- with that turtle? Isn't it a girl?" Kitsune asked. She had entered silently during the crazy fray. "Is it lesbian or something?"  
  
"Alert me when you are sober, you crazy drunk vixen," Motoko muttered as she stood up and dusted herself off. "It obviously knows of my weakness, and wishes to lead its clan to attack Hinata-"Mutsumi, who had been holding her hands behind her back for the whole time, suddenly stood forward.  
  
"Motoko, don't be afraid! Tama-chan just wants to kiss you!" Mutsumi's hands shot out like arrows from behind her back, and lo and behold, Tama- chan was perched on the uplifting palms, smooching its lips like some crazy invention of Su's!  
  
This is just a typical day here at Hinata Inn; an inn turned into a girl's dormitory over the years as business waned. My name is Urashima Haruka, and I own the Hinata Tea House, not far from the inn. Urashima Keitaro is my nephew, and he seems to always get in, unfortunately, very compromising situations at Hinata Inn. More than once he has been kicked out and more than once he has been accepted back. However, he is now finally at his dreamed-of position at Toudai University, with his violent beloved, Naru Narusegawa, the girl of his, rather plentiful, promises. So for the time being, I am taking care of the inn for him until, or should I say, -if- he comes back graduated and/or alive.  
  
Around here, Hinata Inn is always so busy. Wouldn't it be wonderful if the Inn gave us what we wanted, just when we needed it? That is one of the mysterious things about Hinata Inn. It has recovered promises long forgotten, revealed dark and deep secrets, and most importantly, bonded souls together.  
  
Will you journey with us down the path of memories and promises, showered with the budding flowers of friendship? 


	2. Silver Bells

Gravybowl: w00t keep those reviews coming! ahaha i totally forgot about the thingamerjigger...disclaimer! oh yea this chpt has character death in it, so ... yea, thought id tell you in case you...er, don't like character death.  
  
Disclaimer: although i would like to, i do not own LH or any of its characters.  
  
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The air crackled with energy and joy as people bustled here and there, doing their rushed Christmas shopping. Towers of presents were shoved into seemingly endless lines of taxis, and fat women in fur and jolly men with moustaches wished each other a good day as they rubbed shoulders in the crowded streets. Everyone was happy. Almost everyone, at least.  
  
A bit further away from the city, more into the rural area, Motoko stood, head bowed, over a snow-covered tablet. Her mitten clad hand reached out and brushed off the solemn cover of white to reveal the words:  
  
Here lies Aoyama Tsuruko  
Sister, Daughter, and Wife  
Born and Died within 30 years  
You will never be forgotten  
Rest in Peace  
  
"Sister," whispered Motoko. Tears formed in her eyes. "You promised to stay by my side. You promised that nothing would come between us. And I, I too have made you a promise. You must not leave before it is completed! Sister!" Motoko fell to her knees. Who would be her idol now? Who would be there to encourage her, in her bleakest times? She wept, but her tokens of grief turned into crystal and shattered on the tablet. "Shattered, sister, like my heart."  
  
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"Here, we have to get this, Haruka!" Kitsune chimed as we passed the wine section. She went in the isle and came out prancing with a bottle of red wine.  
  
"What happened to sake?" I asked as I reluctantly allowed her to place the bottle of European water (What? Sake is stronger than red wine...) into the cart. "You are so paying for that."  
  
"You know it," Kitsune giggled, then winked. I sighed. –I- was the one who would give the money for the expensive watery crap. "I don't know, Auntie. I feel...exotic. Besides, I want to try something different for once!"  
  
I lightly fwapped her on the arm; I knew that she knew that I was exceptionally generous during Christmas – what do you mean, I'm never generous? "Don't call me Auntie, you hussy."  
  
"Then quit –talking- like one."  
  
"Shut up. Do you think it was really wise of us to just leave Motoko alone? You know she's been so sensitive since Tsuruko died."  
  
"Ahh. The Aoyama warrior beauty."  
  
"Shush! You might as well respect the dead if not the living."  
  
"That's not true, Auntie, I –do- respect the dead. I respect you!"  
  
"Didn't I tell you to shut up? Now give me your –sober- opinion, Kitsune."  
  
"Hmm. I don't know. Maybe she just needs time alone."  
  
"But you know Motoko. She's so violent and irrational! There's no knowing what she could do!" Little did I know then, but I was uncannily correct. Motoko, at that moment, was flying around town, blasting holes in abandoned houses and hitting some drunkards with her ki attacks.  
  
Motoko stood at the edge of the bridge. "I can't live without you, sister, I can't!" She prepared herself to jump off the ledge, but something made her pause. The rippling water that she broke the ice away revealed her reflection. Motoko snorted. Why would that stop her? But a closer look revealed that it was not her. It was her sister. Motoko gasped and stumbled back. How could it be? She clearly remembered her sister's pallid face as her heavy eyelids finally closed and her chest stopped rising and falling jerkily. She slowly approached the edge of the bridge. Yes, it –was- her sister, but much more healthier; her face was filled out, and two spots of warmth showed high above her cheekbones.  
  
"You must preserver, Motoko. In your life, you will lose many more important people to you. I am just the first. The first will hurt the most."  
  
"Sister, you must come back! At least wait for me! I'll come!" Steeled on by her sister's appearance, Motoko's leg muscles tightened.  
  
"No!" Tsuruko's (or was it Motoko's?) reflection whispered. Motoko stopped, her eyes widening in confusion. "You must stay here! Your task on earth is not completed."  
  
"But without you, I have no family and no home!"  
  
"Think deeper, Motoko. You –do- have a family and home." And with that, Motoko's reflection rippled back to her own.  
  
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"Shut –up-!"  
  
"Stop poking me, you –loser-!"  
  
"What is a loser? Is it tasty?"  
  
"NO!"  
  
"Auntie, someone's coming! Look lively!"  
  
"STOP. MAKING. THESE. OLD. CRACKS. ABOUT. ME!!!!!"  
  
"Okay, yeesh, you old hag."  
  
"ERGH!"  
  
Motoko rounded a corner. A little bell rung, stirring, as always, the deeply engraved memory of her sister.  
  
*** Motoko and Tsuruko, 5 and 18 respectively, sat under a tree, sheltering from the summer rain.  
"Motoko. Take this, and become a great warrior!" Tsuruko held out her  
own sword, safeguarded with two silver bells. Motoko, awed, took hold of  
the sword, and her fingers brushed her sister's. The chiming laughter echoed as the gentle summer rain pattered down onto the soft earth. ***  
  
The ringing of the bell became louder. The bushes whispered as the wind howled. Motoko reached the top of the cement stairs, and became still in amazement. The Hinata Inn was decorated with tiny silver bells, identical to the ones on her sister's sword. Each bell had it's own harmonic tinkle, so when the wind blew, a slight, sweet tune could be heard. Each and every corner, window, door had its own pair of bells.  
  
"SURPRISE!" Everyone, of course, excluding Naru and Keitaro who were on their education-filled "honeymoon" and Shinobu, who was waiting inside with the feast, jumped from behind a bush. I "accidentally" elbowed Kitsune, who was already too drunk on her "exotic drink of the gods" to notice, and she fell down while everyone else cheered.  
  
Everyone crowded around to embrace Motoko, who had tears streaming down her blue face. "Thank you, everyone! Thank you so much!" she cried, embracing each person warmly, even Mutsumi, who I –knew- had the supreme smell of turtle on her clothes that no one sensed except Motoko.  
  
When it was my turn, I stepped up to the crying girl and wrapped a colorful scarf around her neck. She looked at it closely, and saw tiny katanas knitted on it. "Oh, Haruka-san! This is..."  
  
"No need to thank me." As she pulled me into her arms, I murmured, "Motoko, you know that everyone here at Hinata Inn is here for you. We can be your home and family." She pulled away in surprise.  
  
"Well, the Christmas feast will be getting cold. Shinobu has been waiting for us for a very long time!" I briskly said as I walked off to the Inn. The others turned to follow me, and all of them halted in surprise.  
  
"What the-"Kitsune muttered. Motoko stopped beside her, and caught her just in time from falling down.  
  
"What is it, Kitsune?"  
  
"Well, Motoko, I wasn't supposed to tell you, but we decked out the whole Inn in really tacky strings of sparkly tinsel. And now, it's all turned to silver bells! But don't tell yourself; it's supposed to be a surprise for you when you come back!" Motoko would roll her eyes; I can just imagine her doing so; but right then I could feel her burning, questioning stare on my back as I strolled back to the Inn, my face turned to the heat of the lights.  
  
Wonderful when the Inn does your work for you, isn't it, now?  
  
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"GODDAMNIT, MOTOKO!" Kitsune staggered into Motoko's room, screaming. "TAKE DOWN THOSE DAMN BELLS ALREADY! They've been up for five months, you freak; its MAY! AND YOU –KNOW- I HAVE A HANGOVER!" Turning to a steaming Kitsune, Motoko just smiled.  
  
"No, I believe that I'll leave them out for just a little longer." As Kitsune stumbled her way out of the female samurai's room, Motoko dreamily turned back to her window. The chiming of the silver bells took her to another place, and outside, a gentle summer rain started to mist the Inn. 


End file.
